A Cable Calamity by Rose Madeline Mula

A Cable Calamity

Whatever happened to the concept of rewarding long-standing customers for their loyalty? Don’t ask the cable companies. They haven’t a clue.

For the past two years I had been a faithful client of Cable Company X. I had been happy with the service — well, as happy as anyone can be with any cable service — and I expected our relationship to continue until I got old. Oh, wait. I’m already old. Well, I figured I’d hang in at least for the foreseeable future. And they would have been delighted with that arrangement, as long as I agreed to a fat fee increase — forty dollars per month more than the already hefty sum I had been paying.

They did have a much better deal for New Customers, however, so they asked if I had anyone else living in my home who could subscribe. I did! Unfortunately, it turned out that my Teddy bear doesn’t qualify. His credit rating is abysmal.

That was the bad news. The good news was that Cable Company Y, which had been courting me for months, was salivating to sign me up. And since I’d be a New Customer for them, I could get a fantastic deal — sixty dollars a month less than Company X’s new proposed fee. That rate would be guaranteed for two years, at which time I’m sure I will no longer be a valued customer but will become an old customer and will be kicked in the wallet.

But until then, all would be rosy. Or so I thought — until Company Y’s installer showed up, dragging yards of dusty cable across my carpet and tripping over his baggy jeans which were hanging at half mast mid-paunch and puddling at his feet. Oh, well, I thought, he’s not a fashion model; he’s a cable installer. Trailing his gear (and his pants) into my bedroom, he explained he would affix a cable box to a wall in the closet — a procedure that would take several hours; but he assured me that my phone and Internet service was operating.

Leaving him to it, I retreated to my den and settled down to work at my desk. (Who was I kidding? That wasn’t going to happen until I won at least three games of computer Spider Solitaire — a ritual I’m addicted to). Four hours later, after I had played seven games of solitaire and finished half a draft of a new essay (yes, I finally did get to work), I needed to email the editor of the magazine which had requested the essay to get further direction.

My new Company Y email wasn’t working. I went into the bedroom to ask Mr. Slob (AKA the cable guy) why. "Beats me," he shrugged. "Better call tech support." I did. After half an hour of unsuccessfully exploring various possibilities, they were stymied. They had no idea what the problem was, but they assured me it was okay because someone who could help would call me back in 48 hours. That was definitely not okay! I had a deadline. The essay was due the following day. My hysteria eventually produced some action, and they were able to set me up with a temporary solution.

At this point, Mr. Slob ambled in to announce he had finished the installation. "I put the box behind your bureau," he said, leading the way back to the bedroom to show me. He had pulled the bureau eight inches away from the wall so he could squeeze in the ugly cable box and several feet of twisted black cable. "You said you were going to put it in the closet," I said between clenched teeth. "Nah," he said, "this is better." I got hysterical again. "Nooooo!!It's not!!" He shrugged nonchalantly and handed me a smudged, creased business card. "My manager," he said. "Call him. Maybe he’ll get someone to come and change it."

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A Cable Calamity

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